Last weekend my husband was driving up the M90 when he noticed the wing mirror on the passenger side was not where it should be. That is, when he looked to check what was driving up behind him, he was unable to see if there was indeed a car there.
Pulling in at a service station, he finally found some use for the huge roll of duct tape that he always has in the boot “just in case”.
I, on the other hand, have a Lidl bag for life, a dog hair-coated tartan rug and half a bottle of some dubious looking soft drink left by one of the children.
On returning home he looked down the street and a line of rather nice cars each had their wing mirror dangling down like a forlorn spaniel’s ear. What was obviously the case is that someone, or perhaps some people, walking past on Friday night thought it would be hilarious to karate kick all the cars. Oh, how they must have laughed. What japes can be had without spending the entrance fee to a nightclub.
Except these stupid little toerags didn’t consider that wing mirrors are there for a reason, they aren’t some embellishment for which drivers pay extra alongside sat nav and leather seats.
Their high-jinks high kicks are unlikely to result in any major accident, but that’s not to say that they couldn’t.
There is a strong possibility that alcohol may have been involved – the amount of violence that occurs after some folk imbibe is recorded at hospitals across Scotland.
I can never really understand this situation as after a couple of glasses of wine I’m more likely to give someone a hug than punch them in the face.
Surely if you wake up after a night on the town sporting a broken nose and grazed knuckles together with no memory of how this came to pass, it could be a little nudge to say that there’s obviously some trigger in your brain that is set off by a couple of cans of extra strong lager.
Anyway, if I come across the louts from last week I certainly won’t need anything stronger than a cup of tea to let them know what I think.